Who am I to disagree
by jillyfae
Summary: In some impossible Thedas, where-in Hawke somehow adopted a rake!Sebastian rather than a Chantry brother, Sebastian and Isabela join forces to see just how interesting they could make life in Kirkwall. aka "I think we can talk them into a threesome, shall we see what happens?" Them being everyone. Not quite all at once, however. Though who knows, they might try that too, eventuall


**Hawke**

Hawke was drunk.

He had to be drunk, there was no other possible explanation for the impossible confection of white cloth stretched against dusky skin in front of him, of Isabela's bandana draped across Sebastian's shoulders, of the flash of blue eyes hidden behind black hair, because Sebastian's head was buried in the curve of Isabela's neck, and Hawke could see much too much skin on the both of them, and they were making such hungry sounds, and the curve of her back and Sebastian's _hands on her arse, _and Isabela's fingers digging into his shoulders and Hawke wasn't completely sure what they were doing with their hips and their legs but if he couldn't still see Sebastian's pants around his thighs Hawke was pretty sure it'd be illegal and immoral for that sort of thing to be happening in public.

Not that this was really public, it was his kitchen.

But that right there was the problem, wasn't it? _His kitchen._

Not the place for other people to be having tawdry moments together.

Without him.

Maybe he'd hit his head really really hard and this was an hallucination?

He was pretty sure they didn't even _like_ each other, after all, much less, well.

It was a disturbingly sexy hallucination.

But his mother would kill him if she ever found out people had been having _sex_ on her _counters._

So he cleared his throat.

They didn't notice.

To be fair, he wasn't sure notice much if he had thighs like either of theirs clinging to his hips.

He coughed. Loudly. Twice.

Isabela twisted her head to look at him. "Were you waiting for an invitation, sweet thing?"

_No of course not, I was trying to tell you to leave, you heathens._

"Um."

Isabela's smile widened, and then her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, Sebastian having moved his mouth from her neck to her breasts, and _Maker,_ she had lovely breasts and no, he wasn't jealous, or eyeing those shoulders that Sebastian usually had hidden beneath his leathers, or …

"Yes, please?"

* * *

**Carver**

"Well, Pup, what a surprise!"

Carver closed his eyes. _Andraste's Flaming Sword, _just his luck, Isabela.

Here.

At the Rose.

At least it wasn't his brother?

"Did you find someone who'd let you bite them with your sharp little teeth?"

Carver grunted, and tried to pretend he was staying silent out of dignity, not a complete inability to ever think of any sort of comeback when she smiled. It was unfair, one woman shouldn't be allowed to have lips like that and breasts like that and legs long enough to wrap around him twice.

"Come now, there's nothing _small_ about young Master Hawke from what I can see."

_Maker's balls, this just keeps getting worse._

Sebastian strolled up to the bar, draping an arm over Isabela's shoulders and leaning in much too close to the both of them. Isabela smiled, her body curving up against Sebastian's hips with a purr, and wasn't that just a little creepy, he didn't even know they'd ever met before.

"Yes, I must admit, he's a lovely tall boy, and all those shoulders," Isabela shivered with yet another smile. "But there's no real way to tell while he's still got his pants on, now is there?"

_Fucking Void,_ now he was blushing, because they were both staring at his damn crotch.

"I can tell when I'm not wanted, thank you very much." Carver drank his shot, and slammed it to the bar, and stood up to make his escape.

"Now whoever said that?" Isabela stood up, all hips and curves and heat and he had to swallow as her breasts almost brushed against his chest. "I believe, in fact, we were attempting to say quite the opposite."

"We?" _My voice did not crack, no it did not, Maker's holy sodding ..._

Sebastian moved until he was standing behind Carver, breath hot against the skin of Carver's neck. "We have our own room, did you know?"

"No?"

"Have you ever been with a man, Pup?" Isabela was purring at him, now, and he could still feel the heat of Sebastian's chest behind his back, and he shook his head, just a little. "There's nothing I like more than watching a strong young fellow such as yourself being fucked mercilessly for the very first time."

"She gets so very hot and bothered, _watching_," Sebastian again, his voice soft and hot in Carver's ear. "And when I'm fucking you, and your muscles are weak and sore and you've never been so hard in your entire life, she'll wrap those gorgeous lips of hers around you and suck you dry."

They both stepped back, and it felt cold, the air against his skin, and he was having trouble remembering how to breathe.

They turned, and walked toward the stairs, Isabela turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Are you coming, then?"

* * *

**Anders**

"I don't like him."

Isabela laughed, and pushed his cup of watered wine closer to his hands rather than his elbows. "He doesn't like you either. All that ranting. His family's very devout, you know. He even likes the Grand Cleric."

Anders rolled his eyes. "So why are you bothering me about showing him my electricity trick, then?"

"Because you don't have to like each other, but you desperately need a break, sweet thing, and you both are very, very pretty, and I wish ever so much to watch you squirm."

Ander snorted, and drank his wine. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Hmm." Isabela hummed, and leaned back in her chair. "You know that thing that the Lay Warden used to do, that thing that most people don't do, that thing that made you shudder for at least an entire candlemark?"

Anders paused mid-swallow, eyebrows creased as he stared at her over the rim of his cup.

"He's really very good at it."

* * *

**Aveline**

"Stop flirting with me, Sebastian."

"Alright." Sebastian blew her a wobbly sort of kiss, _Maker we're horridly drunk,_ and turned his smile towards Donnic. "Aren't you hot in all that leather, my good man?"

Aveline blinked, rather startled to discover, somehow, five minutes later, the Sebastian had talked her husband into taking off his leathers, and was even _helping, _hands sliding across Donnic's chest and back to reach all the buckles.

She made a surprised sort of hum in the back of her throat, blinking again as she watched. That was a nice view, that was.

Especially since Donnic returned the favor, blunt fingers tugging on Sebastian's straps until they were both in light breeches and shirts.

"Oh my." Isabela was somehow draped all over Aveline's shoulders, and she had the vague recollection that she had been for awhile, both of them paying more attention to the men than much of anything else. "Don't suppose you two want to keep going, hmmm?"

"I will if you will," Sebastian turned that disturbingly charming leer of his back towards them, his hands settling along Donnic's hips.

_Oh._ That was. She should not be. Donnic was staring down at Sebastian's hands, and then he lifted his head to look at her, cheeks flushed with drink and eyebrows lifted in something that she was pretty sure was a question. _What do you think, lover?_

_I think this is a very bad idea._

But she turned her head anyways, and kissed Isabela, open and sloppy and full of tongue, only vaguely hearing Sebastian's warm chuckle and Donnic's hum of approval.

* * *

**Merrill**

"Why don't you flirt with me?"

Sebastian coughed into his ale, and lifted wide eyes to the dalish settling onto the bench across from him. "I beg your pardon?"

"You flirt with everyone, Sebastian. You flirt with _Donnic_ in front of Aveline and somehow haven't gotten smashed in with a shield yet. I'm even rather sure you attempted to flirt with that Tal-Vashoth mercenary fellow who likes to lurk around the place, not that I blame you, he's very tall isn't he?" Sebastian nodded slowly. "Plus you flirt with all the serving girls, and even occasionally very carefully with Fenris, so I know it's not that you don't like elves. Is it because I'm a mage?"

"No, no," he shook his head, but she saw the slightest glance across her arms and hands, as if looking for the scars from her dagger. And then he lifted his gaze, the slightest curve of his lips, warmth in his eyes, and _oh, that's why everyone always says yes,_ "I find you an endless delight, my dear, and would enjoy nothing more than discovering exactly how far down those tattoos may go." His voice had dropped as he spoke, and he leaned across the table, the last few words close enough to brush across her skin and make her shiver.

But then he leaned back and shrugged, a slow, sad spread of hands. "But our darling Isabela threatened to un-man me with her least-favorite, dullest dagger, if ever I attempted to work my wiles on you. As I am quite sure she's capable of following through, and I was rather of the impression you wouldn't appreciate a human expressing too much interest, I kept my sighs of appreciation to myself."

He really had quite the most expressive mouth. She wondered if he was as good with it against skin as he was with his smiles. "If I convince Isabela that she's over-reacting, would you change your mind?"

His newest smile was positively deadly, sharp and hot, and she was afraid she might be blushing.

"In a heartbeat."

"Well, that seems like a plan, then, I'll just go, she's upstairs betting with Varric, after all, I think?"

"Merrill." She paused, trying not to shiver again at the way he savored her name with his voice, though she was starting to think she might have just gotten herself into something a bit more, well, _more_, than she'd expected. "Once you convince Isabela you have an inclination for our sorts of games, she's very likely to want to join in."

"Oh," Merrill sighed, imagining skin and warmth and Isabela's laugh and Sebastian's smiles and she was in so much trouble but it was going to be ever so much fun. "That's a lovely thought."

Sebastian laughed, a warm enticing sort of sound, quite as nice as the smiles. "I'm quite enjoying it myself, I must admit."

* * *

**Varric**

He was trying to write.

Well, really, he was avoiding some damn Guild paperwork, so despite the glower he sort of aimed their way, he was rather relieved at the sight of Rivaini and Prince Charming sauntering on into his rooms. Isabela blew him a kiss, and then they both ignored him completely and headed towards the fireplace instead. He grunted a bit in annoyance, and leaned to the side so he could see what they thought they were doing.

What, was Prince Charming _bowing?_

"Milady Bianca, we do hope you don't mind the intrusion."

_Bastard's smirking at my crossbow?!_

Isabela smirked and put a finger to her lips as he stood up. _shh._

"We know you and Messere Tethras have a special relationship, and we do not wish to interfere, but..." He trailed off, his brogue soft and sweet in the firelight. Varric found himself waiting to watch the show rather despite himself, as Prince Charming shifted and took his bow off his back. "We desire to _borrow_ your partner, for just a night, but we would be loath to leave you all alone. You are much too delightful a lady to be so neglected."

_Well. That was true._ Varric shrugged uncomfortably. Damn noble was rather good at flirting with Bianca. It was ... confusing. Varric felt almost appreciative.

"And I hope you will accept the company of one who has always admired you." There was a shift of nimble fingers, the fire highlighting the curve of wood as Prince Charming strung his bow, fingers lingering for just a moment along the curve, the slightest shiver of the string just audible as he placed the Starkhaven Longbow below Bianca in her stand beside the mantel. "A family heirloom, in fact, of the most distinguished pedigree. Not that that compares to your fine workmanship, milady, but we hope we do not offend." And then he bowed again, and wished her a very pleasant night, and turned around with a very arrogant smirk.

Not that Varric blamed him. He'd done a pretty good job.

"And why, precisely, did you feel the need to bribe away my crossbow with a longbow chaperone?"

"Well," Isabela stepped close enough to brush a kiss against his cheek, and then pulled a heavy glass bottle full of something rich and golden out of some impossible pocket behind her back. "We were rather hoping you'd agree to try this lovely bottle of scotch Sebastian just got from a friend back in Starkhaven, and then, if we're very lucky, finally let us enjoy that chest hair of yours without your coat in the way."

"Or your pants, if we're being quite honest." Sebastian's smile widened as Varric raised his eyebrows, and he had to admit it was oddly tempting. They were properly appreciative of all possible formalities, after all.

"Well, shit." Varric felt himself smile back. "Bring that bottle over. Let's see what happens."

* * *

**Fenris**

They'd both flirted with him.

They flirted with everyone, and he was no exception, Isabela bright and brash and Sebastian slow and careful.

Neither of them pushed, however, and seemed content enough to go on their merry way, seducing anyone else they liked and managed to corner with liquor or smiles or blatant innuendo.

It surprised Fenris to realize, one day, leaning up against his mansion walls, waiting for Hawke to come trailling through the Court, that he was a touch disappointed that they'd both given up, as he'd reached the point he would probably say yes.

He'd never bothered flirting in his life. He wasn't completely sure he knew how to start.

Getting them drunk at the next Wicked Grace night seemed to be their usual method; maybe it would work _on_ them as well as it appeared to work for them?

Or he could just drag them both up to his bedroom and assume they'd figure it out from there?

He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, feeling the catch of hot rough stone behind him. Wine first. One bottle of wine, a slow smile as he slipped the cards between his fingers, a lift of an eyebrow and a long slow stare at one of Isabela's more unfortunate turns of phrase, should get him exactly what he was looking for.

He smiled.

He was looking forward to it.


End file.
